


Kyrie Eleison

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Mad King Ryan, Multi, king!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if he could read the king’s thoughts, the man reached up and pulled off the helmet, holding it at his side. His face could be seen clearly now; his usually clear blue eyes were nearly eclipsed by dilated pupils, the strong planes of his face covered in flickering shadows. A brand new scar lay upon his brow, traveling over his eye and continuing down his face at a large angle. Blood oozed out of it, but ignored it as he licked his lips, his teeth gleaming in the light.</p><p>“Good evening, your highness.”<br/>---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/>MadKing!Ryan AU. The Corrupted King of the Eastern Lands has been slain by the new Mad King, Ryan of House Haywood. King Geoff of the Central Kingdom and all of his subjects grow tense at the rise of the new ruler, and something must be done about his insanity. Royal guards Ray, Michael and Gavin are sent in to assassinate King Ryan, but they  have no idea what horrors fate has in store for them. Warnings for Rape/NonCon, Graphic Violence, Language, and Sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Steps, rhythmic, muted, echo throughout the large king’s chamber. A smile, crooked and gleaming, seems permanent on his face. All he can see is the man trembling before him, all other things in the world fading to black. His gate grows more predatory, the muscles in his calves and midsection tense and ready to jump into action at any moment. But his brain, his logical, excellent brain, knows that there will be no need for that. The man is completely petrified, his gleaming crown laying crooked on his thinning white hair. A hand reaches down tentatively to grasp for a sword- which is gone in an instant, tossed across the room by some invisible force. The advancing man’s head tilts to the side, an oddly childlike movement for the menacing figure. As he takes his final steps towards the fallen king, he is illuminated by the torchlight, and the collapsed man inhales a sharp breath. 

He is adorned in the king’s finest black armor, the helmet hiding everything but those flashing teeth. Around his shoulders lies a lion pelt, further contributing to the already massive bulk of his shoulders. It’s only when the king looks down that he begins to truly shake and convulse, his hand flying up to cover his mouth. In his right hand is a Greatsword, held at attention and completely stained in blood. The true horror was held in a white knuckled grip of his right hand- a severed human head dangled by it’s long chocolate locks. The king’s son, and High Constable of the Royal Military, had a horrified expression on his face, sealed permanently in death. The man took a few more calm steps forward before halting in front of the king, dropping the gruesome trophy before his trembling form. The king reached out to it, but immediately halted when he felt the cold tip of the Greatsword resting against his throat. It was lifted higher, beneath his chin, forcing his gaze upward. The man’s face was still partially hidden by the helmet, but the king knew what lay beneath that cold black armor. As if he could read the king’s thoughts, the man reached up and pulled off the helmet, holding it at his side. His face could be seen clearly now; his usually clear blue eyes were nearly eclipsed by dilated pupils, the strong planes of his face covered in flickering shadows. A brand new scar lay upon his brow, traveling over his eye and continuing down his face at a large angle. Blood oozed out of it, but he ignored it as he licked his lips, bright teeth gleaming in the light.

“Good evening, your highness.” The man spat, his tone filled with venom and childish malice. He turns his sword over in his hand, and the king feels blood trickle down his neck. “Why, what are you doing alone on this fine evening, my lord? I’m usually called upon by this time, and when you weren't, well…” He gestures to the head lying on the cold marble floor. “I had to come out and inquire as to your whereabouts.” The king’s blood ran cold and he could feel tears building on his eyelids. 

“R-Ryan, please, I know-” He was cut off as the broadsword dug into his throat, causing him to gasp and reach for his throat.

“Did I tell you to speak?” The man, Ryan, boomed, his words calm but his tone furious as his smile dropped for a split second, replaced by an enraged sneer. It was just as quickly wiped away, replaced by that same eerie smile. “See, I know I’m usually the one that’s following rules but… I figured it was about time for a reversal in our roles. How about this time, I’m the one that gets to play, and you become the prey?” His tone changed again, becoming soft and almost vulnerable. “All these years you've tortured me… Used me… And you didn't see this coming…” Ryan’s eyes went cold, and he lifted his chin. “What a fool you are.”

The king wasn't given another chance to speak before Ryan brought his sword up in a swift movement, dropping his helmet to hold it in both hands. With a primal cry, he sunk it into the king’s stomach, dragging it upwards towards his throat in a swift motion. The king could only scream in agony, writhing on the floor in a growing pool of blood. After a few moments, his movements slowly began to die down before ceasing altogether. The chamber was completely silent, and then-

A chuckle. Short, sharp and breathy. More followed, and Ryan’s shoulders began to shake. The laughter grew louder and louder, and he began driving his sword into the king’s corpse over and over again, the wet, gory sounds of flesh mixing in with the crazed laughter. Ryan fell to his knees, plunging his gloved hand into one of the wounds he had just inflicted, gripping something and ripping it out with great force. He lifted it to his face, admiring it with wide-eyed, childlike wonder. The king’s heard lay limp in his grip, covered in fat tissue and blood. Slowly, as if testing himself, Ryan lifted the organ to his lips, opening his mouth and biting off a chunk of the tough material. He swallowed carefully before bending back, spreading his arms wide and facing the ceiling. Ryan took a few gasping breaths, his large smile stained with blood. In an instant he was hunched forward again, devouring the heart in ravenous bites. 

He finished just as a few servants and guards ran into the room, stopping dead at the hunched figure in front of the throne. Seconds of dead silence passed, and Ryan slowly lifted himself to his feet, picking up his Greatsword in the process. With carefully measured movements he turned towards his audience, his mouth, chin, neck and chest covered in blood. Raising his Greatsword into the air, he finally spoke.

“Long live the king!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly that's the most violent thing I've ever written. I'd like to say it calms down after that but???? Nope. This is one of the first fics I've actually felt super passionate about, so I hope I can follow through with finishing it! Lyrics at the beginning of each chapter (except this one) are from Dan Forrest's "Requiem for the Living".


	2. Introit-Kyrie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,  
> et lux perpetua luceat eis.  
> Exaudi orationem meam,  
> ad te omnis caro veniet.  
> Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
> 
> Rest eternal grant to them, O Lord,  
> and let perpetual light shine upon them.  
> Hear my prayer, for unto Thee all flesh shall come.  
> Lord have mercy; Christ have mercy;  
> Lord have mercy.

“Well come on then, you complete knob! How are you supposed to catch me at that pace?” Gavin’s voice calls out into the woods, quickly followed by his bubbling laughter. As he leaps from tree to tree, he spots one of his friends beneath him, grumbling up at the bounding youth. Just to irk him, Gavin swings down and sprints along the ground for a few strides, feeling the shorter boy’s presence gaining on him. Just as the blond feels strong fingers reaching for his back, he leaps back up towards the treetops, cackling all the while.

“Fucking- come on Gavin, you insufferable fucking prick! Get your ass down here! The king needs to talk to us, so if you’d kindly pull that giant nose of yours out of your ass for one fucking second, that would be-” the other boy pauses to breathe before continuing. “That would just be great.” Michael stops in his tracks when Gavin appears before him, dangling from a low branch by his legs.

“Come on, Michael.” he whines in a pathetic voice. “There’s no need to bring my nose into this! Besides, I was just trying to have a bit of fun! Gods know the King is just going to have us listen to another boring lecture about border patrols or court etiquette or something stuffy like that.” The blond sets his lips in a pout, but he knows the other boy simply isn’t buying it. Just as the hotheaded youth is about to begin spewing more harsh insults Gavin’s way, a third boy rides towards them, two other horses and a few dogs in tow.

“What’s up, losers.” The third boy calls out nonchalantly, sliding off his horse with cool efficiency. He steps towards them, a small smile threatening to break through his cool facade. “Why don’t you two stop fucking around in the woods for five seconds so we can go to the king’s meetings, hm?” His dark eyes shine with concealed mischief and Gavin swung down from the tree, bounding forward to clasp his shoulder. 

“Bloody incredible! Even the infamous Rose Knight wants to go to this meeting! It must be truly amazing to meet your high standards!” Gavin spoke in a deliberately stuffy tone, bowing before his friend. “We must attend! Onward, men, to the royal court!” He sniped, grinning as he hoisted himself onto his horse.

“Shut the hell up, Gavin.” Michael barked, climbing onto his horse as well. Once all three riders were ready they took off, followed by their small pack of hunting dogs who howled and yipped with excitement. Gavin tried to turn their ride home into a race, which Ray easily won, casually shrugging his shoulders as they entered the stables. After their horses were all settled, the three boys headed towards the glorious castle before them.

Castle Consequi was truly a masterpiece to behold. A gleaming fortress resting on a coastal cliff, it housed both the royal family and royal guard, but also many lower class citizens of the kingdom. Towering cobblestone walls surrounded the actual castle, with a large gleaming steel gate that served as the entrance. The three boys were waved in immediately, and they made their way past the quaint cottages and shops of the outer ring. When they reached the actual castle, they were again granted admission with no problems whatsoever. As they approached the giant oak doors, their eyes scoured over the familiar structure. Huge stained glass windows lined the front of the castle, and the top tiers of the fortress seemed to extend into the heavens themselves. A fountain in the courtyard bubbled gaily, and the gravel beneath their feet crunched upon their approach. Flowers were blooming in the sweet spring weather, filling the whole area with the scent of roses, orchids and other flora.

The three boys clamored up the cobblestone steps, joking and laughing the whole way. The massive oak doors were opened for them and they entered without announcement, shoving one another playfully. However, one look around the room stopped their joking instantly. A few members of court were scattered here and there, whispering among themselves. The light of the stained glass windows illuminated the room, as well as the exhausted figure that lay sprawled in the throne. Once they had crossed the room and stood before the king, they all bowed in unison, their expressions tense. The man nodded in acknowledgement before standing. He cleared his throat before speaking loudly, addressing the whole room.

“High Constables, members of parliament, other diplomats… I’m sure most of you know why you’re gathered here today.” King Geoff spoke, calmly taking his Queen’s hand as she approached his side. “As of a week ago, King Leonard the Corrupt was murdered. His son and only heir was also slain, both by his… concubine, to put it plainly. Ryan of House Haywood. He has taken the throne, and intends to keep it.” The king’s tense eyes scanned the crowd, giving them a chance to absorb the information. Gavin was the first to speak.

“But, Your Highness, isn't that a good thing? King Leonard was a disgusting madman, and his son was a terrible gambler. Maybe this Ryan could do some good for the Eastern Lands?” King Geoff shook his head, and Gavin wilted.

“No. We've had informants in their courts for years. Ryan may not be as corrupt as Lord Leonard was in regards to money and… Secret affairs, but he is on a whole different level when it comes to plain cold-blooded cruelty. King Leonard treated him terribly for almost two decades and needless to say he lost his mind. Lord Daniel can attest to this.” When mentioned, said man nodded solemnly. “So, in light of these events, we must plan our next few moves very carefully. I have been meeting with the war council, and while our military and treasury could handle a full blown war, the people could not. They have not seen war for generations, and the toll would be absolutely terrible on their minds. We’d much rather just end this quietly. That’s why we decided to propose a plan, using our three High Constables as the key pieces.” He turned to them then, staring them down calmly. 

“King Ryan is holding a festival for all the kingdoms to attend in one fortnight. Of course, it’s probably a trap, but that’s why we intend to send you. He spent so much time cooped up in Castle Ira, he doesn't know much about the other kingdoms, other than their monarchs and subsequent family members. You will attend his ball, posing as members of Central Kingdom’s court. Once you have infiltrated his defense, you will take care of him quietly. The other kingdoms are aware of the plan, and have King Leonard’s niece ready to take the throne once Ryan is gone. Are the three of you capable of following through with this plan?” They all nodded solemnly, and King Geoff continued. “Alright then. You have one week to prepare. Try to get in as much training as possible. Lord Daniel will be along to help you learn some more of the basics of court. You've all been training for court assimilation for years, so I expect you’re all almost prepared anyway, but we still need to be safe. All right, everyone is dismissed.”

As people began to file out of court, Queen Griffon squeezed her husband’s hand, while the king rubbed between his eyes pensively. “May the Gods save us all.”

\------------------------------------------------------

The week passed by the three boys in a flurry of fancy clothes, combat preparation and court etiquette. They were exhausted by the time it was time for them to depart, but they knew by the end of their trip to the Eastern Lands that they’d be thrumming with energy. All three of the boys were to be taken in a carriage escort, and upon arrival they would be admitted into the castle, if their plan worked. King Geoff was there to see the three of them off, and embraced each one of them tightly. 

“You three boys are like my sons. If anything happens to you, I’ll…” He sighed. “Just, stay safe. Complete your mission, and then head back home. We’ll all be waiting for you.” They all nodded, and then boarded the carriage, all three in extravagant court clothing. Then, they were off.

The journey was quiet and tense. Gavin made a few attempts to lift the mood, but a sharp look from Michael or a terse shake of the head from Ray immediately shut him down. If they talked, it was to review their plan for the assassination, or to go over correct court manners. It seemed like an eternity before they finally spotted Castle Ira on the horizon. The journey had taken them four days, and there were still three days left to prepare their plan. Others were filtering in at the same time as them, but it seemed most wanted to make their stay at Castle Ira as short as possible. The boy’s couldn't say that they didn't feel the same. However dreadful their moods, though, they couldn't help but stare in awe and admiration at the large fortress.

It seemed to be made entirely of black marble, and it lay on an island in the middle of a large lake, the waves launching flickering, flowing shadows on the dark walls. There were no windows on the outside of the massive building, making it all the more ominous looking. Torches lined the roof and guard towers, and a steel drawbridge lay open, waiting for their arrival. Guards dressed in all black saluted them as they drove past, not breaking eye contact with some invisible being in the distance. Even their horses were nervous, tossing their heads and grunting anxiously. The carriage halted in front of the large staircase leading to the castle door, and they stepped out, twisting and turning to get a better view of the castle. There was absolutely no wildlife like at Castle Consequi, and just that small missing component only made them dread the place more. Instead, there were large marble and glass sculptures around the courtyard, depicting various battles and kings. A voice called out to them, and they all turned in unison to it’s source.

“My lords! M-My lords, I pray your journey was pleasant?” A short man in court attire greeted them, breathing hard after his almost-sprint down the stairs. He had a pleasantly round face that contrasted his nervous gaze, giving him an almost comical appearance. The three boys nodded to him, and he continued. “Welcome, then, to Castle Ira. My deepest apologies- King Ryan is unable to meet any of you today. I’m afraid, in fact, that you will not be able to meet him until the festival. He’s extremely busy, you see, and… He…” The man trailed off, gesturing with his hands helplessly. The knights exchanged looks, and turned back to their host, nodding again. “Excellent, I’m glad the three of you understand. Well then, to introduce myself, I am Lord Kerry, and I’m going to be your personal escort for the duration of your stay. I’ll give you a brief tour of the castle, and then direct you to your chambers if you’ll just follow me. The servants will take care of your belongings.”

Kerry then turned and started up the stairs at a brisk walk, looking back at the boys every few seconds. Once the boys entered the castle, they were surprised to see that the entire complex was illuminated with softly flickering glowstone. They were led around some of the more important parts of the castle- the dining hall, the court, the ballroom, and other similar rooms. The throne room was off limits until the festival, Kerry told them, leading them past the large steel doors quickly. 

After almost an hour of touring, they were led to the third level of the castle, where their chambers lay. The third floor was split into two halves, each containing a resting room, baths, and three separate bedchambers. The guests sharing their level had not arrived yet, but they were told they were representatives from the Northern Isles. Kerry opened the door to their area open for them before bowing, closing the door, and departing quickly. All three of the boys visibly relaxed, Gavin throwing himself down on a plush chaise lounge. Ray disappeared to inspect the other rooms, while Michael moved to the paintings on the wall, inspecting them carefully. Their rooms were simply decorated, most of the furniture set in black with red accents.

After they were all thoroughly settled in, they went to the baths, intending to wash the scent of a four days journey off of themselves. They talked briefly about their plans, in hushed tones. Once they were done, the three of them entered the lounge room, sitting around a large oak tables and laying out the important papers they had brought with them. Forged official documents, blueprints and maps lay scattered across the mahogany surface while the three boys whispered to one another, pointing, gesturing and sifting through the papers. Their dinner was delivered to them by a pair of silent servants who scurried away when Gavin tried to interact with them. 

When they realized the moon had been out for quite a long time they packed up the documents, shoving them deep into their bags. They sat around the table for a few minutes more, discussing anything that they had found during their tour or in their room, which was almost nothing. Everything seemed to be ordinary, aside from the creepy aura of the castle and its nervous inhabitants. All three of them agreed to investigate the whole castle more the next day, and they went into their separate rooms with a few quietly murmured goodnights.

\------------------------------------------------------

The last two days before the festival passed almost too quickly for the young boys. They investigated almost the whole castle, identifying escape routes, hiding places, and guard schedules. Before they knew it, it was the morning of the Festival, and the boys were clothed in the finest garments they brought with them. The day began with jousting and sparring in the courtyard, clearly to appeal to the masses of the kingdom. All three boys were slightly sickened by the gruesome way the knights fought- in the Central Kingdom, jousts and sparring matches were just for show, and those involved were usually not harmed. The men that fought before them were clearly out for blood.

After the show was a lunch feast, and then an archery competition. Ray entered after being badgered into it by Gavin, and quickly won, gaining the admiration of many in the court. He seemed to shrink under the attention, quickly scurrying back to his friends sides. There were a few other attractions like a traveling animal show, which sparked interest in Gavin, especially the terrifying Creeper sealed in a glass case. It shuffled over to the blond, hissing and crackling curiously at the wide-eyed knight. Michael was, of course, more invested in the weapons exposition, admiring the swords, daggers and axes that gleamed in the sunlight. As the sun began to set, the royal guests returned to their rooms, preparing themselves for the big event of the night; the masquerade ball.

Lady Lindsay, the royal seamstress, had outdone herself with their outfits. They were tailored and designed to fit each of their personalities, while still containing discrete sheaths for weapons and other objects. Ray was dressed in a white undershirt with a black overcoat lined with red. His pants were loose with red seams, and his tall black boots hid a map of the castle and a small dagger, should he need it. A large red cape draped over his right shoulder, concealing his bow and a few arrows he had stored on his back. He had a simple black mask to wear, adorned with a red rose. The whole costume was subtly extravagant and almost the opposite of Michael’s which seemed to be put together like armor.

Large gold shoulder plates were almost covered by the large deep brown cape he wore, matching his brown jacket and similar pants, all tight-fitting and somehow aggressive in appearance. His short sword rest in a golden sheath, out in the open for all to see. His mask was deep brown and accented with golden swirling metal, the top bearing the crest of the Central Kingdom. Gavin was the last to get dressed, and stood admiring himself in the mirror while Ray and Michael rolled their eyes.

The boy was dressed in a black undershirt and black, loose fitting pants, and he wore the skin of a creeper as a cape, the material draping over his shoulders. The waistband of his costume hugged his hips, and numerous whistles, ropes and gadgets hung from it, all things that he usually carried in his satchel. The pants hugged his ankles but remained loose around his thighs, increasing his mobility. He did not have a mask at all, and instead his face was painted, covered from brow to nose in deep greens, while his eyes were rimmed with black, the image vaguely resembling a creeper. The boys thanked the Gods that they had Lindsay on their side. All three of their outfits allowed them to excel at their given talents. Ray was able to remain discreet and hidden, Michael was ready for up-close combat, and Gavin’s costume allowed him to reach the full extent of his mobility.

The three boys exited their room, clothed in the battle armor of the court.

\------------------------------------------------------

The grand ballroom was extravagantly decorated and filled with both the loud chatter of people, and the bubbly sound of dancing music. Ladies dressed in their finest garments giggled and waved their fans, while gentleman watched them with gazes that ranged from fearful to predatory. A few of the other nobles nodded to the boys as they entered, well aware of their plan. The three of them dispersed immediately, moving to their designated areas and beginning their search for Ryan.

Gavin was walking in the middle of the crowd, laughing and chatting and joking with the other guests, all the while keeping a wary eye out for anyone in a crown. He whipped around when someone called his name, and almost hit a man standing right beside him. Stuttering out an apology, Gavin continued towards the person who had called for him. He felt as if he had eyes burrowing into the back of his head, but he ignored it as he engaged himself in another conversation.

Michael, meanwhile, was standing at attention near one of the large columns in the room, gazing out over the crowd. He could sense when a man stopped and stood next to him, handing him a goblet of wine. 

“Drink, my friend, please, you look tense!” His words almost seemed like laughter, and Michael could tell the man was smiling. The brunet only nodded, inclining his glass towards the man, who disappeared after a moment to talk to a few young ladies. Michael took a sip of the wine but stopped there, not allowing the alcohol to affect him during the important mission.

Ray was walking along the outskirts of the crowd, trying to ignore the eyes that watched him as he gazed at the art on the walls. A few girls whispered to themselves, giggling and batting their eyes, while their escorts glared holes into him. He stopped next to another man who was admiring a painting. The work depicted the great flood of the Gods, over one hundred years ago. The strong juxtaposition of the peaceful water and the terrified mortals within it was truly stunning, and as if on cue, the other man sighed, mumbling to both himself and, Ray realized, to him as well.

“Quite terrible, wasn’t it? It’s wonderful that the Gods have blessed us with so much peace these past one hundred years.” Ray glanced at the painting again and turned back to the man to comment that the last hundred years had been anything but peaceful, but the man was already walking away, melting into the crowd. Ray shook his head, looking up to admire the painting again.

An hour later the boys converged near the edge of the crowd, mumbling to themselves.

“I haven’t seen bloody hide or hair of him in this place. Unless he’s hiding, I don’t think he’s here.” Gavin remarked, gazing back and forth between Michael and Ray. Their faces were tense, and Michael seemed to be grinding his teeth.

“He’s got to be here. It’s his fucking coronation party, where else would he be? We should go back through and look again to see if-” He cut himself off abruptly, staring over the other boys’ shoulders to gaze at the figure approaching them. It was the man they had all met earlier, who wore a simple white costume, his mask a chilling depiction of a skull. Ray and Gavin stepped aside to allow him into their group, and he nodded in appreciation, standing at attention with a small smile on his face. 

“Lords, I believe the dance is about to start- would you like to join me?” His words were kind, but his eyes were locked intensely on theirs, one eyebrow raised. They turned to one another, nodding, and moved towards the group of people preparing for the dance.

The man stood in front of Gavin, with Ray at his back facing Michael, and the music began. All four parties bowed, and then followed the gentle sway of the instruments. The man held up his hand, and Gavin his, so that the backs of their hands met, and they circled around one another, returning to their original positions. While the other two boys mirrored their actions, the man began to speak.

“I know who you all are.” He hissed out in a whisper, his eyes not leaving Gavin’s. All three boys tensed, and Michael’s free hand moved to the hilt of his sword. “There’s no need for that, Michael, Master of Combat. I’m on your side. Your king made me aware of your plan a week before your arrival.” Michael relaxed upon hearing his formal title, glancing at Ray to see the other boy’s reaction. His usually apathetic expression was gone, replaced by one of pure determination. “I assure all of you that you can trust me. I know where the king is, and I intend to lead you to him.”

The man and Ray danced around one another, switching partners so that Ray and Gavin now faced each other, while the man and Michael locked eyes. Michael sized the man up, slightly intimidated by his broad build. All of his muscles were tense, and the man frowned at that. He went on regardless. “This dance will end soon, and when it does, disperse. Mingle in the party for a few more minutes, and then meet me outside the throne room. I’ll make sure the guards are occupied elsewhere.” He finished his sentence just as they had to switch partners, sending the man down the line to dance with another group of people.

The three boys looked at one another and nodded, finishing the dance as quickly as the music would allow them. They scattered into the crowd, talking for a few more minutes, before heading out of the ballroom separately. All three of them threw their capes to the side once they were out of sight of the other guests, unsheathing their weapons. Gavin blew into three different whistles, tilting his head to listen for a response. Two wolves appeared from around a corner, massive beasts clad in gleaming armor, followed by a large hawk. While he ran, he motioned to them and they scattered, each disappearing into a different hallway. Michael had drawn his shortsword, and Ray his bow, and three of them continued running towards the throne room. When they arrived, the masked man stood there, peeking through a crack in the door.

“Oh, finally, I thought you’d gotten lost. Beastmaster, are your creatures in the castle?” The man spoke, looking at Gavin. The blond was slightly shocked, but he nodded. “Good… Good. We’ll need them.” He murmured, before turning to the other two boys. “I believe the king is in there. If we enter quickly enough, we may be able to take him by surprise. You three go in ahead of me, and I’ll make sure no one tries to interfere. I’ll be along shortly.” With a few nods, the boys raised their weapons, and burst through the door of the throne room.

The massive chamber was pitch black, and Gavin was quick to retrieve flint and steel from his belt. Just as he was about to start a flame, he was hit in the back of the head, the blow sending him to his knees while his flint and steel skidded across the cold marble floor. Cold gloved hands reached from behind him, grabbing his throat and covering his mouth. When he drew a breath to yell, the hand around his throat tightened, choking him.

“Gavin? Gavin, what the fuck’s going on-” Michael’s loud yell was cut off by the sound of metal hitting flesh, and the sickening crunch that followed. Ray remained completely silent, trying to assess the situation in the pitch black room. As he backed towards the door, he felt himself collide with an armored figure behind him, and was given no time to react before the backs of his knees were kicked, forcing him to drop to his knees. The armored figure grabbed his arms, pulling them behind his back and making him feel prone and vulnerable. His bow dropped to the ground and was kicked to the side, as was Michael’s sword, if the terrible sound of metal screeching on granite was any indication. All three boys were dragged further into the throne room, Michael struggling and yelling the whole while. Eventually his captor ripped part of his sleeve off, tying it around his mouth like a muzzle. All three boys were shackled where they knelt, and they all felt swords digging into their backs.

After a few moments of silence, they heard someone enter the room. Leather shoes made soft clacking noises as the other person approached, and they were unable to turn and investigate the situation. Once the person had passed them, it was too dark to make out who it was. They heard the sound of a mask being removed, and the soft, short scrape of metal against granite. The person sat in the large throne before them, crossing his legs and snapping his fingers.

“Lights.” A familiar voice echoed throughout the room, now menacing and threatening instead of helpful. All three boys knew who the man was before the glowstone lights came on, and their bodies went cold. Sitting there on the throne was the man who had helped them earlier, wearing a kilt, an extravagant golden crown perched precariously on top of his head. “Well then, I’m glad to finally meet you, dressed in my full attire. Welcome, Michael, Combatmaster, Ray, Defensemaster, and Gavin, Beastmaster! I’m so pleased the three of you are here now, although your plans here will have to be… Canceled. I am, as I’m sure you know, King Ryan of House Haywood, first of my name, and rightful heir to the throne of the Eastern Lands.” He paused, his cruel eyes piercing each boy individually. Leaning forward in his seat, he whispered, “Welcome to hell, boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! That's a lot more than I usually write! Unfortunately the frequency of my updates from here on out is going to drop like a rock. I was really only able to write this much because I had absolutely no homework over Thanksgiving break.... I'll try to get more writing in, and hopefully finish this fic by the end of Christmas break. I doubt it'll happen though. uwu;;


End file.
